


Can You Breathe?

by anyothergirl415



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-24
Updated: 2009-11-24
Packaged: 2017-10-26 22:56:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/288804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anyothergirl415/pseuds/anyothergirl415
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam might be a little sick and therefore a little delirious but Dean doesn’t mind looking after him. So to speak.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can You Breathe?

**Author's Note:**

> 30 NaNo Shots 2009 - Prompt: Sick

“Do you remember when we were kids?” Sam asked around a yawn, rolling his body on the mattress and groaning softly.

Dean’s smirk was gentle around the edges and stroked his hand through Sam’s hair, spreading it out to lay across the denim covering his thighs. It was a lot easier to have Sam’s head in his lap than it probably should have been. But this was a special circumstance. “Yeah Sammy, of course I do. Wasn’t that long ago.”

Sam mumbled something and rolled onto his side, burying his nose into the crook of Dean’s knee. He continued to mumble as his arm slipped under Dean’s leg and found purchase on denim.

“What was that?” Dean asked with a small smile, fingers trailing along the burning flesh of Sam’s forehead and tugging the smile down into a frown. “Need some water?”

Rolling until his lips were free of the material, Sam dug his fingers into the underside of Dean’s thigh. “M’good. Just wonderin’ if you ‘member the time we ate the king size bag of Skittles in one go.”

Dean cringed at the memory, “Yeah, jesus we were so sick afterwards.”

“Our vomit was rainbow colored,” Sam grinned into Dean’s leg and slid his fingers up to massage hard into Dean’s thigh.

“Gross dude, why are we talking about this?” Dean tilted his head to the side and watched Sam’s fingers, stark white against dark denim.

“Fever induced thoughts,” Sam mused and inched his body higher until he was mostly sprawled across Dean’s lap. “Mmm my whole body aches. All the shit we deal with and I’m gonna be taken down by the flu.”

Dean snorted and began massaging Sam’s temple in small circles. “You’re not gonna die from the flu Sam. I’m sure it’s just a twenty four hour thing.”

“When I’m dead tomorrow you’ll regret brushing it off so quickly. You’ll _mourn_ me death by flu,” Sam turned his face inward and suddenly there were lips against the inseam of Dean’s crotch, just along his zipper.

Dean could have shrugged it off, he was used to shrugging off touches that didn’t make sense as far as Sam was concerned. But there were _lips_ so close to his cock Dean could feel the heat through a thin layer of denim and cotton. “Um… Sam?”

“’Member that one time you got really drunk?” Sam asked in a soft whisper.

“Um… I remember there have been a few occasions where I got really drunk,” Dean swallowed thickly and resisted the urge to shift back and give Sam’s lips more room to maneuver.

As it turned out Sam didn’t need him to move at all, he was pretty decent at maneuvering in limited space. Dean entertained the notion that this was because Sam was kind of a giant and he had to get himself out of tight spots sometimes. “I’m talkin’ about that time before my graduation. When you got us both a bottle of whiskey as a pre-celebration,” he murmured as his fingers gradually worked the button free from its hold.

Dean strained his memory and came up empty handed. Then again, most of his blood was rushing to his cock by this point and Dean was loosing brain thinking abilities pretty rapidly. “Uh… what about it?” He wet his lips and shifted until he could stretch his legs out and lean back against the headboard.

Sam glanced up at him and smirked and Dean couldn’t help but wonder just how sick he was. Because he didn’t _look_ very sick at that moment. More like the cat who caught the canary or something. “So you don’t remember at all? What you did?”

“It’s uh… been awhile… since then,” Dean mumbled shakily, lifting his hips as Sam tugged roughly on his jeans, pulling them down.

“Well… that was the first time. Of course every time you get drunk we end up in this position,” Sam stated this information like he was reciting their grocery list or the best way to salt and burn bones, their normality. “Though normally you’re the one pulling my pants off, about to suck my cock.”

The noise that fell from Dean’s mouth was fairly strangled as the cool air of the room bathed across his hard flesh. “I…” Dean remembered, he wasn’t _stupid_ , but he’d always assumed Sam had been too drunk to remember or something because they never talked about it. But neither of them were drunk now. Or maybe Sam was a little bit from too much cough medicine. Could they use that as a blame? Worked for Dean. “Your nose is stuffed up.”

Sam’s eyes lifted to him, mouth parted in a perfect O, lips so close to his skin Dean could feel the whisper of heat from his breath. “Huh?”

“Uh…” Dean rolled his hips up, savoring the slide of Sam’s fingers over his cock. “You can’t… breathe… out of your nose,” he reached out and tapped the tip of Sam’s nose to illustrate his point.

A long laugh fell from Sam and he collapsed onto Dean’s legs, fingers still loosely curled around Dean’s flesh. “Oh my _god_ ,” he gasped and turned his head to bury in the curls along Dean’s cock. “You would say something like that.”

Dean wished he had enough brain power to come up with some sort of witty retort. He settled for a simple, “Shut up.”

It clearly didn’t do the job since Sam looked only more amused. “Pretty sure I’m gonna be okay. Thanks for lookin’ out for me though.”

“I nghh-“ Dean cut off as heat encased the full length of him. His brain kicked off thoughts like _how the hell did Sam learn to deep throat_ and _oh god I hope he can breathe cause he’s not stopping now_. Or at least, Dean thought his brain had registered those thoughts but Sam’s lips were curved in a smirk around him and Dean kind of had to question if he said anything out loud. Wouldn’t put it past himself. Sam’s mouth was kind of like molten lava.

“Dean,” Sam looked up as he pulled up from Dean’s flesh, “shut up dude.”

Apparently Dean _had_ been talking aloud. Maybe that was why he really only did this when he was drunk. Of course there was a way to ensure he properly shut up and Sam apparently knew that method since in the next moment the tip of his cock brushed along the back of Sam’s throat and Dean’s brain affectively shut off.


End file.
